


Riders on the Storm

by kinoface



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, Superpowers, community:je_otherworlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-11
Updated: 2011-06-11
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:59:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/pseuds/kinoface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nino doesn't want to take the job, but Captain insists, and what Captain says goes... even if it means kidnapping the magistrate's son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riders on the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [albinococonut23](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=albinococonut23).



> Originally posted [here](http://je-otherworlds.livejournal.com/3609.html) for [JE Otherworlds](http://je-otherworlds.livejournal.com/) over on LJ. Thank you thank you thank you to aes and yayhooraiba for brainstorming, cheerleading, and beta reading, to elfie for all the love and encouragement, and to INB for rubbing my shoulders and talking me through it and telling me NO every time I wanted to call it quits. There is _so much more_ I wanted to write and maybe now that I'm done with this version, I will write all the little side-stories and character backgrounds. Maybe. But trust me, there's a lot. :D
> 
> Title and lyrics from the Doors song of the same name.

_Into this house we're born  
Into this world we're thrown  
Like a dog without a bone  
An actor out alone..._

The night of Sakurai Sho's birth, a fire breaks out.

Nothing about the incident is particularly noteworthy. It happens in a storage room and is caused by a clumsy chambermaid who is summarily dismissed of her duties. There is minimal property damage, and no one is harmed. This is what the people are told. Because there is no reason to suspect that this explanation might be anything less than completely truthful, no one questions it. No one doubts.

But the truth is that the fire starts suddenly and inexplicably in the newly built nursery. The room is destroyed, and the wetnurse is badly burned along with the servants who rush in to extinguish the flames.

That the infant makes it out completely unscathed is nothing short of miraculous.

But the citizens of Susanowo are known for their superstition, and they have come to be wary of such omens. So the news is kept quiet, downplayed. In the end, the fire is greatly overshadowed by the arrival of Magistrate Sakurai's firstborn son and heir to the not-insignificant family fortune.

A few years will pass, and no one will remember that a fire occurred at all except for the people who were there to witness it, and most of them will be well-paid to keep that fact silent. They will never betray their employers. The secret will never get out. Not even the boy himself will know what happened that night.

It is only the beginning of a lesson that will take him twenty-five years to learn: a man's actions are what define his character—but it is appearance which defines what people believe.

* * *  
* * *

  
Aiba says the effects of the potion will last twenty-four hours, but Sakurai barely stays out for twelve. By the time he comes to, the sun has already begun to lighten the sky, and the occasional wagon passes them along the isolated merchant road they're traveling.

They leave the road and change course towards the river that outlines the sprawling Capitol City. "Popular fishing spot," Captain explains, and that's good: it means the hounds will have a more difficult time pinpointing them amidst the scents of several dozen fishermen.

They find a secluded spot along the river's edge and park the stagecoach behind a thick cluster of trees. Aiba climbs down from the driver's seat while Nino and Captain file out of the coach, and Matsujun comes out after them, dragging Sakurai behind him. Sakurai is awake, but the potion is clearly still affecting him; Matsujun's hand fisted in the back of his shirt is the only thing keeping him on his feet. Still, there's a moment, just a few steps from the coach, when he tries to dash away.

Between the potion-induced dizziness and the shackles locking his wrists behind his back, he doesn't get very far. But Matsujun gives him a shot of pain just for good measure. He lays his hand on the back of Sakurai's neck, skin to skin, and in the next instant Sakurai is collapsing to his knees, crying out weakly as his body curls inward, trying instinctively to escape the pain.

Nino has been on the receiving end of this particular talent of Matsujun's, once and only once, and he remembers exactly how that pain feels. It's like being struck by a lightning bolt, every nerve set alight and screaming with it.

The shackles, on the other hand, are Nino's doing. They have no key and no lock; he transmuted them from a few handfuls of earth when they grabbed Sakurai late last night and has been concentrating on holding the spell ever since. Now, he kneels beside Sakurai's quivering form, noting the bruises already starting to color the back of his neck, and brushes his fingers over the edge of the shackles. At his touch, they dissolve back into dirt. Sakurai draws his arms to his chest and curls in tighter, but with Matsujun hovering over him, he doesn't try to escape again.

They strip him, throw his well-tailored clothes into the river, and edge him into the water. Captain throws him a bar of soap that he barely manages to catch, and Matsujun tells him, "Wash yourself. We don't want the hounds tracking your pretty noble perfume."

"And don't even think about trying to swim off," Nino adds. "Aiba-chan over here is a pretty good shot." Aiba gleefully shows off his homemade pistol, just to prove the point.

The water is so cold that it steams off his skin as he bathes.

* * *

  
As so many of their jobs do, this one came from Aiba. He might be a respectable chemist who runs a legitimate business—unlike the others, he doesn't carry the brand that designates them as cursed freaks, second-class citizens to be reviled—but his apothecary serves the additional purpose of attracting all sorts of shady characters who deal in less-than-legal activities, and Aiba has never been one to turn down an offer. One day, he showed up at the hideout to pass on just such an offer: kidnap a powerful magistrate's eldest son and transport him to the neighboring country of Onamuji, far outside his father's jurisdiction and influence.

They've done worse. But they've never done bigger.

Nino thinks—no, is _sure_ —that they are insane to take this job. He can barely sleep at night for all the thoughts of every possible way it could go horrifically wrong. They'll get caught. They'll accidentally lose or maim their target. They'll get blown up by one of Aiba's experimental potions. If their own clumsiness doesn't do them in, then they will be cut down by the waves of militia which the magistrate will surely send after his son. Nino is positive that at least one of these potentialities will be realized and probably several others as well.

But Captain said they should take the job, and Captain has never been wrong before—at least not about anything this big. He has a knack for these things; his hunches have saved their lives on more than one occasion. So Nino _could_ argue and could probably win, but he trusts Captain implicitly, so he plays along. Aiba is famously up for anything, so he agreed without a second thought, and as for Matsujun, well, he would follow Captain off the edge of a cliff if it came to that.

So they took the job.

The night of the abduction, they left their hideout knowing that it might be the last time. Either they'll finish the job and earn enough gold to make a real name for themselves outside of the Capitol City, or they'll fail and will be forced to flee in order to escape execution.

Nino has been anticipating this moment since he was a child. He just didn't think it would happen so soon.

* * *

  
When he's done, they let him dry off and dress in decidedly less noticeable clothes, and then they tie his hands with rope and return to the stagecoach. Aiba drives, Captain rides shotgun, and Nino and Matsujun sit in the back to keep an eye on Sakurai. He stays huddled in his corner of the bench, still wrapped in the blanket Aiba had draped over his shoulders and watching them watch him. Every now and then his eyes will flicker down to the twin daggers sheathed around Nino's hips, or Matsujun's adamantine-plated brass knuckles, but for the most part he maintains steady eye contact. Nino has to admire that.

They stop briefly in the afternoon to switch places and split a loaf of bread between the four of them. Captain, of course, can't resist the urge to hook a fishing line into the groove he'd carved into one end of his quarterstaff for just this purpose, and Aiba joins him on the riverbank where they chat idly with other fishermen.

From inside the stagecoach, Nino can hear one of the men ask Captain and Aiba where they're heading. The truth is that they're going south along the merchant road, the only way out of the city, until it veers inland. Then they'll ditch the stagecoach and follow the river to where it opens up into the ocean that separates Susanowo from Onamuji, and from there they'll travel the peninsula that connects the two. It's the long way around, but, after all, "Captain" is only a nickname; they don't actually have a ship of their own, and stowing aboard someone else's would be too risky considering their high-profile cargo. That's why they have the coach and the horses: by land is their only travel option.

But of course they can't afford to let this fisherman know that, so Captain tells him they're heading north. Captain is much more clever than he lets on.

* * *

  
When they leave the merchant road for the more isolated path, they unhook the horses from the stagecoach and load the equipment onto them. There are four horses, so Sakurai rides with Matsujun, who can subdue him most easily should he try anything. The stagecoach burns behind them as the sun begins its descent below the horizon.

They ride for a few more hours in the darkness, finally stopping to head into the forest and set up camp in a clearing about a mile in, away from any trails or paths. Nino makes the fire, Matsujun pulls a cooking pot and some rice from their equipment, and Captain prepares the fish he caught that afternoon. Aiba, meanwhile, works on the other end of the clearing, mixing potions and making noises of interest or concern every now and then.

Sakurai stays close to the fire where Matsujun had deposited him earlier. He looks small somehow with his legs folded beneath him and his hands still bound. His wide eyes show fear and exhaustion in the firelight. He doesn't speak a word.

When the food is ready, Matsujun spoons rice into the plain bowls he'd brought along and hands them one at a time to Captain, who places a chunk of fish into each one before handing it out. After he hands out Nino's, he looks to Sakurai as he sets up the next bowl and says, "What's your given name?"

Everyone looks at Captain with varying degrees of shock. Even Sakurai seems unsure, but he answers slowly, "Sho."

Captain flashes one of his small, friendly smiles. "I'm Satoshi." He points at each of them in turn. "And that's Nino, Matsujun, and Aiba-chan."

Aiba looks dumbstruck; Matsujun looks about ready to fall over. He lays a hand on Captain's shoulder and says, "Captain," but Captain just continues preparing the plates as if nothing at all unusual has happened.

The next bowl he hands out goes to Sakurai, who looks down at it with as much surprise as the rest of them. He says, quietly but sincerely, "Thank you, Satoshi."

Matsujun and Nino exchange glances, but in the end Nino simply shrugs. It's just one of Captain's quirks.

The rest of the night is silent as they eat, Sakurai doing so somewhat awkwardly with his hands still bound. Captain's fish is delicious as usual. A post-dinner round of janken decides that Matsujun and Captain will split up guard duty, Matsujun taking the first half and Captain waking up to relieve him halfway through.

As Nino lays out his bedroll, he asks Matsujun, "Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?"

Matsujun gives his best wolfish smile. "If he tries anything, I'll just practice on him."

Sakurai looks deeply uncomfortable with those words. Nino sleeps peacefully with that reassurance in mind.

* * *

  
The next day goes without fuss. Nino is half-expecting to be ambushed by bounty hunters at every turn, to be caught by guards outside every city, but everything goes smoothly, and they make good distance. As for Sakurai, something about Captain's friendliness has calmed him, made him more relaxed. He's still quiet and wide-eyed, but he no longer seems so frightened, and by the second night he's grown comfortable enough to ask, "Can someone maybe untie my hands?"

They've just settled down for the night around the campfire. Matsujun is cooking the rice they'll eat for dinner, Aiba is nibbling on a piece of dried fruit, and Nino is practicing his card tricks, but when they hear Sakurai's voice, they all look up—all except Captain who's dozing peacefully on Aiba's shoulder.

"Are you serious?" Matsujun asks. His tone is as dark as his glare.

Sakurai shrugs, surprisingly nonchalant. "It's not as if I'd get very far if I were stupid enough to take off." He smiles—the first one they've seen. "And I'm _not_ that stupid."

Matsujun glances at Captain, still snoring softly, and then at Nino. Nino shrugs and sets down his cards to unsheathe one of his daggers.

As soon as the rope hits the ground, Sakurai is sighing contentedly and rubbing his wrists where the skin has turned pink and raw. He stretches his arms above his head, then behind his back. Nino observes him idly over his cards.

"You know, for someone who's being kidnapped, you sure are taking this lightly."

Sakurai flashes him another smile, this one wider and toothier, and continues stretching. "Sometimes you have to roll with the punches, right? I'm sure you're all used to that."

Matsujun slams the lid down onto the cooking pot with such force that even Nino jumps a little. Captain, of course, doesn't move an inch.

"You're nothing but a spoiled noble," Matsujun seethes. "You don't get to talk about our lives."

"Matsujun doesn't like nobles," Aiba tells Sakurai. He pats Matsujun's shoulder, then withdraws his hand and rubs his fingertips together as if he'd pricked them on something sharp. He continues, "You see, he belonged to a noble house before th—"

" _Aiba!_ " Matsujun smacks the back of Aiba's head once with his hand, then again with the handle of the spoon he'd been using to stir the food. Aiba rubs at his head with both hands and stumbles over an apology before Matsujun swats him again for good measure.

But Sakurai looks interested. "Before what? Which house?"

"No more questions," Matsujun snaps, and then, back to Aiba, "and no more sharing information that isn't yours to share."

He goes back to the rice, and Aiba pouts, comforted by Captain who pats his knee without ever having opened his eyes.

The food is finished before long, and they eat mostly in silence. It's Nino's turn to keep watch, so after dinner he settles in beside the fire and lays down a game of solitaire while the others all roll out their bedrolls and tuck into them.

Sakurai stares into the firelight, lingering quietly in the corner of Nino's vision, but after a few games Nino catches him looking up. Above the crackling of the flames, he finally hears Sakurai's voice.

"Why did he leave?"

When Nino glances up from his cards, Sakurai clarifies, "Matsujun." He keeps his voice low in case the others might still be awake. "If he was a noble..."

Nino goes back to his cards, shaking his head as he moves a stack to a new column. "Like he said," he quips, turning over the card underneath: the three of spades. "Not my information to share."

After a moment of quiet contemplation, Sakurai asks, "Was he branded?"

At this, Nino looks up to give Sakurai his full attention. He sets his cards down, pulls off his gloves, and turns his hands to show the back of them. His right is pale and smooth; his left is marred by the dark, ugly scar he's carried for nearly half his life now. "Yes," he says, "just like the rest of us. Well, not Aiba. He's just an idiot who likes to follow us around. But me and Matsujun and Captain..." He flashes a bright, bitter smile. "All branded."

The look on Sakurai's face isn't what Nino expected, more saddened than the usual reactions of fear or disgust. He says, "I'm sorry," and from the tone of his voice Nino knows that he's sorry for the brand, not the power behind it. Instead of flinching away or changing the subject, he leans forward as if to see the scar more closely and asks, "What can you do?"

Nino is honestly taken aback by the question. But after so many years of lying and conning, he's good at hiding it. He scoops up a small handful of earth and shows it to Sakurai, and then he closes his fingers around it. He concentrates for a moment, and when he opens his hand again, instead of dirt, three gold coins lie in his palm, gleaming in the firelight.

"Uwaaa! Amazing!" Sakurai is overjoyed, his eyes turning up above a genuine smile. He inches closer and reaches out with one hand, stopping halfway to glance up at Nino and ask, "May I...?" When Nino shrugs and holds his hand out farther, Sakurai takes one of the coins and turns it in his fingers, fascinated. He studies it with his eyes as well as with his fingers, feeling out its grooves with the pad of his thumb. He even tries to tweak it, but Nino is good at what he does: it won't bend. Sakurai is downright delighted. He glances back up at Nino only briefly to ask, "Can you do this with anything?"

"No, just earth, minerals... Things that generally come from the ground. And it only lasts as long as I concentrate on it." Nino clears his mind, lets the spell go, and all three coins dissolve back into dirt.

"Amazing," Sakurai says again, more to himself this time as he watches the dirt spill like sand from his fingers. Then, once it's gone: "What about Satoshi?"

"Not my place to tell," Nino answers, going back to his cards.

"What about Matsujun? Can he just cause pain or—"

Nino shrugs and says again, "Not my place to tell."

Sakurai stops and fixes Nino with a look of playful frustration. He switches tactics and asks, "What was it like?"

Nino turns up a five of hearts. "Excuse me?"

Sakurai's voice is quieter, now—more hesitant. "When they caught you," he tries. "When they branded you. What was it like?"

It happened so long ago that the memory has begun to blur around the edges. Nino can no longer remember where in the city he was, or what he was trying to buy, but he can still clearly recall the exact moment and the exact sensation, like something sharp twisting deep in his chest, of realizing that his transmuted coins had changed back into pebbles before he'd made it home.

"That's enough." He scoops up his unfinished game and sets his cards aside. "Go to sleep."

"But—"

" _Sleep._ "

Sakurai actually has the audacity to pout, but he obeys regardless. Nino puts his gloves back on and slides his cards back into their case while Sakurai settles into a comfortable position, and when he's satisfied that Sakurai is on his way to sleep, he transmutes a large handful of earth into a whetstone and sharpens his daggers until they're perfect.

When Captain wakes up to relieve him of his duty, he goes to sleep relishing the dusty feel of earth that still clings to his palm.

* * *

  
Kidnapping is a new experience for them—and, presumably, for Sakurai as well—and they're unsure of how to handle being around their captive in such close quarters for so long. But, oddly enough, it's Sakurai who first breaks the tension, comfortable enough once the rope comes off to spark conversations that start out formal and gradually become more friendly. As it turns out, he's actually a pretty decent guy: when Aiba prompts him to show them his impression of a swan, they learn that he's a huge goofball, and he even offers to help set up the campsite each night, an activity that starts when he sees Captain and Aiba struggling to build the fire and lends them a hand. That he is their captive makes all of this only _slightly_ awkward.

Aiba latches onto him almost immediately, which isn't surprising considering Aiba's habit of treating everyone as a friend until someone tries to slit his throat, and even then, he's been known to be liberal with his forgiveness. What's more surprising is that Captain, who is usually friendly if a bit standoffish but takes a while to really warm up to someone, takes to him as well. Nino tries to keep his distance, as does Matsujun, but Captain and Aiba wouldn't know to follow a good example if it bit them in the ass. By the time they're a quarter of the way to their destination, they're calling him "Sho-chan" and having the favor returned with "Satoshi" and "Masaki." It's as if they've forgotten entirely that he's someone they've been hired to kidnap.

Nino, however, has not forgotten. If anything, that fact is more painfully obvious now than it was when Aiba first came to them with the job.

They were never told what purpose the kidnapping is supposed to serve, but it can't possibly be a good one; the person to whom they are taking Sakurai cannot possibly have anything pleasant in store for him. And the more Captain and Aiba grow to like him, the more apprehensive Nino feels about going through with the job.

He realizes now that no matter which path they take, there is a long road ahead of them. Either they complete the job and surely doom an innocent, good man to death or worse—or they drop out and incur the wrath of whoever would hire them to do such a thing in the first place.

"Oi, Nino," Matsujun calls. "Your turn."

"Ah—sorry." Nino blinks out of his thoughts and looks down at his hand: the five of spades, the seven of diamonds, and the three and king of hearts. A two of diamonds stares up at him from the discard pile.

Matsujun smirks over his own concealed hand. "We can quit here if you want to give up."

Nino returns the look easily. "No thanks," he says, reaching to draw a new card: the ace of clubs. "I'll take my chances."

* * *

  
Nino is in the middle of a dream when Captain shakes him awake.

"They're here."

Nino is about to ask who "they" are, unsure if he's still dreaming, but Captain is already moving on to wake Matsujun, then Aiba, then Sakurai. Nino has barely slipped out of his bedroll and grabbed his daggers when the first arrow comes flying through the trees.

At the far end of the clearing, four cloaked figures emerge from the forest, all armed, all brandishing the magistrate's crest upon their shields: bounty hunters sent by Sakurai's father. Judging by the arrows still vaulting through the trees, there are a handful of archers hidden in the forest around the campsite as well.

Another arrow flies past, missing Captain by a hair. As Aiba grabs his pistol and shoots in the direction the arrow had come from, Matsujun turns to Nino. "Get the archers," he orders. "We'll take care of these guys."

Nino nods once and darts away, into the trees. This is where he truly excels; he's small and nimble enough to expertly sneak through the shadows of the forest, catching the archers unawares and taking them out quickly, efficiently, with his daggers. He dispatches three archers this way, and finds another whom Aiba's bullet had already taken care of.

A quick glance back into the clearing shows him that the others are doing just fine. Captain, Matsujun, and Aiba have formed a tight circle, Sakurai guarded between them, and are dexterously fighting off the hunters. With the archers taken out, Nino moves to join them.

But when he steps past the shrubbery that outlines the clearing, a bounty hunter is there waiting for him. The hunter strikes out with his shortsword, catching Nino off guard, and although he manages to deflect the hit with his dagger, the force of it knocks him down. The hunter is quick to take advantage, and Nino is not fast enough this time.

The blade goes deep, and the pain is unbelievable. It radiates from his right shoulder, where the blade struck, and pulses through his body with every heartbeat. Immediately blood spills out, pooling in the curve of his shoulder, soaking through his clothes, so red that he can see it even in the dim light. The hunter moves to deliver another blow. Nino isn't one for dramatics, but he doesn't have Captain's knack for hunches, and he can't see a way out of this one.

From across the clearing, someone calls his name.

He turns to look, but there's a sudden burst of orange light, so brilliant that it blinds him until he turns away, and then a flash of heat that washes over his entire body. It lasts only a few seconds, but they feel remarkably long when he has no idea what's happening. When the light and the heat finally fade, he cracks his eyes open, and through the spots of color still swarming his vision, he can see the hunter in front of him, shouting and hurriedly trying to remove his cloak.

It's on fire.

The hunter manages to throw the cloak onto the ground and stomp out the flames, but as soon as he turns back to Nino, Sakurai comes into view and does the last thing Nino expects: he punches out the hunter.

Between the adrenaline, the pain, and the confusion, Nino is having a very difficult time figuring out what's going on.

Sakurai kneels at Nino's side and begins tearing at his shirt around his shoulder. Nino thinks, dazedly, that Sakurai's hands are so, so warm. "I'm sorry," Sakurai keeps saying, "so sorry—I didn't mean for this to happen—"

Then he lays his hand on Nino's skin, his palm flat against the wound.

And then everything is pain.

It's a white-hot pain like burning, like getting branded all over again. Nino throws his head back and screams, he can't help it, and he claws at Sakurai's arms, but he's disoriented and weak and Sakurai holds him down easily.

Sakurai pulls away after a few moments. The pain lessens but is still intense and dizzying; Nino can feel his whole body trembling with it. Sakurai grips Nino's hands—his skin is _so warm_ —and holds them tightly even when Nino tries to jerk away. "I'm sorry," Sakurai says again. "It's okay now. You'll be okay."

From somewhere behind Nino, another hunter appears, reaching out for Sakurai. "Sakurai-sama," he's gasping, "we're here to take you back—"

But Matsujun is there in an instant, Captain and Aiba in tow behind him. Somewhere in the fight he got his adamantine-plated knuckles on, and when he punches the hunter, the impact is so strong that something in his jaw cracks audibly. He hits the ground like a sack of grain and doesn't move after that.

Matsujun whirls on Sakurai and is about to throw another punch, but Captain places himself between the two of them, laying a hand on Matsujun's shoulder to calm him. "We have to leave now," he says, voice as calm as ever. "Nino will be fine. The job is still the same, right?

Matsujun doesn't look convinced, but Captain's word is law. He backs down.

The pain in Nino's shoulder and throughout his body is still all-consuming, and without the sounds of their voices, he has nothing to hold onto to keep him above it. Through the haze, he's vaguely aware of more quiet discussion, somewhere in the background and too distant for him to focus on, and then of being picked up and hefted onto one of the horses.

After that, he fades out.

* * *

  
He wakes up to intense pain. He doesn't recognize where he is at first, but after a moment he realizes that he's in the small camping tent they'd brought along in case of rain. He's lying on the ground, cushioned by a bedroll and pillows, and Aiba is kneeling over him. His entire body is sore, his shoulder stings like hell, and something smells foul.

When Aiba sees that Nino has opened his eyes, his face lights up in a smile. "Good morning!"

Nino groans and closes his eyes again. "Go away, Aiba-chan."

Aiba pats Nino's arm and sounds cheerful as ever when he says, "It's good to have you back." Then he grabs one of his potions from the pouch sitting off to the side and pours some of it onto a torn piece of cloth. That explains the stench.

"Ugh, what is that? It smells like sulfur."

"It's something to help your shoulder heal up." That's all the warning Nino gets before Aiba starts swabbing his shoulder with the cloth. _That_ explains the pain. "I haven't been able to find an ingredient that will make the smell go away," Aiba continues, "but it's a work in progress! Don't worry, it works _really_ good."

Nino does his best to breathe evenly and grits out, "If you insist." To distract himself from the pain, he shuts his eyes and tries to remember everything that led him here. "How long was I out?"

"The whole day. You needed it, though."

"What happened?"

Aiba counters, "What do you remember?"

Nino searches through his memory of the previous night and slowly manages to pull up bits and pieces: he remembers making dinner—going to sleep—waking up to an ambush—Sakurai—

He bolts upright and gasps, "Sakurai—" but Aiba pushes him back down against the pillows.

"He's fine," Aiba says in what is clearly supposed to be a comforting tone, but that's not exactly the question Nino was asking.

" _Fine_?"

"Yeah, he's out there right now with Captain and Matsujun—"

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Nino pushes his way out of the tent. The sky has already begun to darken, and the campfire has already been lit. Just as Aiba told him, Captain and Sakurai are sitting close to the fire while Matsujun sits a few feet away from them, arms crossed and eyebrows knotted in a clear look of disdain. All three look up when Nino stumbles his way out of the tent, Aiba following close behind.

Captain acknowledges him with a glance, and Matsujun fixes him with a glare. Sakurai is the one who stands. His face is as openly expressive as ever, betraying a harsh mix of relief and fear. "Nino—"

Nino holds up a hand to silence him and snaps, "What's going on?" When no one answers him, he looks to Matsujun, the one most likely to give him a coherent, straightforward answer, and asks again, "What's going on?"

Matsujun feigns nonchalance with a shrug, but his stiff posture shows that his anger is rising about as quickly as Nino's. "No idea," he says. "They told me we had to wait until you were up before they could explain."

"Well, I'm up now." Nino looks back to Sakurai and plants his hands on his hips. "So please, explain."

Sakurai swallows thickly and, after a heavy sigh, manages to force the words out: "I... well... I'm the one who hired you."

For a long moment after the words come out of his mouth, everything is still. Nino can hardly process what he's just heard, and from the slack-jawed expression on Matsujun and Aiba's faces, they can't either. "I... what? But Aiba..."

Sakurai simply shrugs. "I came into his shop and told him I needed someone to do a job for me."

Matsujun whirls on Aiba, jumping to his feet—Captain murmurs, "Oh, are we all standing now?" but stays seated—and snaps, "You didn't _recognize_ him when we picked him up?"

Aiba already looks like he's on the verge of tears, but Sakurai steps to his defense. "I paid a beggar for his clothes, and I wore a hood to shadow my face. I didn't exactly walk in looking like a noble."

Nino scrubs a hand over his face, beginning to feel overwhelmed. "I don't understand. Why would you want us to kidnap you in the first place?"

Sakurai takes a breath. "Living under my father's rule is too..." He takes a moment to search for the right word and finally tries "limiting," although he doesn't seem satisfied with it. His mouth has drawn itself into a tight line, and the bright, happy eyes they've grown used to are nowhere to be found. "I finally realized that I would never be able to live the way _I_ want to live until I got out of there."

Nino wishes it were as simple as that. But he doesn't buy it.

"You're lying."

Sakurai is visibly taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"You're not just some spoiled noble kid who's tired of daddy's rules," Nino says. "Spoiled kids don't hire groups of branded criminals to smuggle them out of the country. There's something else you're hiding from us." He fixes Sakurai with his best glare. "And since we're technically doing you a favor, I think we deserve to know."

At first Sakurai simply stares—at Nino, who's crossing his arms and giving his best glower, and at Matsujun, who has actually gotten quite good at glowering and for whom "if looks could kill" is more of an eventuality than a hypothetical. Then he looks at Aiba, caught between bewilderment and tears, and at Captain, observing everything through his usual sleepy-eyed haze.

Without a word, he sits back down beside Captain, looks at each of them in turn, and reaches forward to put his right hand into the heart of the campfire.

Many things happen at once: Aiba murmurs a concerned "Sho-chan"; Matsujun screeches, "Wait, what are you doing—"; Captain gives a low, wordless hum of interest.

There are also many things that do _not_ happen: Sakurai does not immediately pull away, or flinch, or even blink; his face does not change from its neutral, painless expression; his skin does not burn.

"This is what my father has been hiding since I was born," he says. His voice is calm, even—not pained at all. "This is the reason he will never let me go. What would people think if they knew the magistrate's firstborn son is cursed?"

When he withdraws his hand, a sheath of fire comes with it, bathing his hand from wrist to fingertips. He slowly turns his palm up, and the flames dissipate, retreating from his skin and joining to form a fireball that hovers, controlled, over his palm. He closes his hand, drawing the fireball in, and when he opens his fingers again, all that's left is a thin line of smoke that curls up into the trees above them. Even that fades to nothing. Sakurai's hand remains clear and unharmed.

Aiba erupts into shouts of "Uwaaa!" and "Amazing!" while Captain simply purses his lips and says, "Cool." Matsujun's jaw has practically come unhinged.

Nino is starting to feel numb. His shoulder and his head are both throbbing. He works his throat for a moment and finally manages the words "I need to lie down," and without looking back, he stumbles back into the tent and buries himself inside the bedroll.

He feels betrayed, used, made a fool of, but also relieved somehow, now that they are no longer faced with the dilemma of whether or not to turn in Sakurai, who had honestly begun to grow on him, to someone who would cause him harm. Nino has made a habit of holding his emotions at arm's length where they can be more easily scrutinized and dismissed, and now that they're all muddled up and mixed in with this sudden news and the pain in his shoulder, it's almost too much for him to take. He feels overwhelmed, exhausted, and a bit nauseated.

Through the thin material of the tent, he can hear Aiba begging Matsujun not to be angry. Then the flap opens, and Captain pokes his head in. "Nino-chan?" he asks, but doesn't wait for a response, just ducks into the tent and moves to kneel at Nino's side.

"Captain..." Nino hooks his fingers around Captain's where they rest beside his knee. "Did you know?"

"Not the whole time."

"But you knew things would be all right. That's why you wanted us to take the job."

Captain doesn't quite smile, but something in his eyes helps Nino feel calm, just as they always have. Captain takes his hand, thumb moving softly against the leather over Nino's scar. "Get some sleep," he says. This time he does quirk a smile. "I'll make sure Matsujun doesn't kill anyone."

He's halfway out of the tent when he stops, turning to look at Nino over his shoulder. He stares for a long moment before he says, "He cauterized your wound, you know. You would have bled out if he hadn't done that."

Nino takes a while to reply, but no matter how long he waits, he can't avoid the answer. "I know."

Captain nods. "Just making sure."

* * *

  
They let him sleep for a few hours, but the possibility that there are more hunters on their trail makes it unsafe to stay in one place for long. Captain insists that they've come too far to turn back now, and Sakurai assures them that when they reach their destination, they'll still receive the gold they'd been promised. So they head out, giving Sakurai one of the hunters' horses which Captain had the foresight to take with them when they fled the campsite after the attack, and they continue on their path to Onamuji.

The job is still the same, just like Captain said. All that's changed is the mood.

It's difficult for Nino and Matsujun to trust Sakurai at first; they can't simply forget that he conned and lied to them. But, as Aiba is quick to point out, "We con and lie too, don't we? I mean, we _were_ kidnapping him. That makes us even, right?"

"You may be an idiot, Aiba-chan," Matsujun says, "but sometimes your logic is sound."

Still, the new set-up takes some getting used to. Matsujun still rides behind Sakurai so he can keep an eye on him, and Nino is still startled whenever Sakurai uses his power to get the campfire going.

But no matter what, the fact remains that Captain _does_ trust Sakurai, apparently as much as he trusts any of the others, and Captain has never led them astray before.

They make due.

They move on.

* * *

  
Nino is sleeping soundly one night when Captain shakes him awake. He remembers the ambush and jumps out of his bedroll, grabbing instinctively for his daggers, but Captain calms him with a hand on his arm. "It's okay," he whispers, "just the horses. Some of them got out."

Nino groans, collapsing back onto his bedroll. "How?"

Captain doesn't reply in words, just makes a noise that could mean anything. Nino groans again, louder this time, but he opens his eyes and says, "All right, I'll help you look for them."

Even in the dark he can see Captain's smile. "Nino-chan is the best."

While Nino laces up his boots, Captain moves on to wake Sakurai. Nino doesn't know why Captain picked him instead of Matsujun, but he doesn't question it, nor does he question Captain's order that the two of them search in one direction while he veers off in another.

"Are you sure you'll be all right out there?" Sakurai asks through a yawn, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. But Captain just smiles and waves them off.

The sky is just barely beginning to lighten, illuminating their path as they head out into the forest, and the first morning birds are chirping to each other from their perches in the trees. Nino and Sakurai make their way through the forest, still slow and yawning. They search for a long time without finding anything. It's only to keep himself awake that Nino glances over at Sakurai and asks, "So, what are you planning to do once you reach Onamuji?"

Sakurai looks as if he hadn't been expecting the question, but when he answers, it's clear that he's thought about it before. "I guess, because of my father, I'd always thought about becoming a politician," he says. "You know, someone who can influence people, show them that being branded doesn't make someone bad or evil..."

"But _you_ haven't been branded."

"No."

"You wouldn't do very well as a politician then."

Sakurai looks up at him, startled. "What?"

Nino shrugs. "No one would be on your side. They wouldn't trust you because you'd be supporting us, and we wouldn't trust you because you're not _one of_ us."

"Do you believe that?"

"Yes," Nino replies easily. When Sakurai looks affronted, he explains, "Look, you might have a neat parlor trick, but that's all it is. You don't have a big advertisement burned into your skin telling people that it's okay to spit at you—hurt you—refuse you everything. You've never had to face discrimination, the kind we've been dealing with our entire lives, just because of something you were born with. So no, I don't believe you're one of us."

Sakurai looks unsettled, but he shakes it off and says, "Well, in a perfect world, people wouldn't be branded at all, right? Just free to live their lives however they want."

Nino laughs. "Now _that's_ a lofty goal."

"I suppose it is," Sakurai says, returning the laugh with a smile. "In any case, after this whole thing, I'm not so sure about being a politician anymore."

"Don't tell me you're contemplating a life of crime."

Sakurai's smile widens into a grin. "Maybe more like... adventure."

At that, Nino _really_ laughs. "How romantic."

The sound of distant movement startles them to attention, but it's only Captain, leading three horses with one hand and holding his quarterstaff in the other. "Found them," he says, smiling and sleepy-eyed as usual.

"Impressive, Captain," Nino greets him as he and Sakurai close the distance between them. "We must have scared them off with all our chatting."

"You can take them back," Captain says, handing over the reigns and taking his quarterstaff in both hands. "The river's nearby tonight. I think I'll fish for a while before it's time to go."

They thank him for his hard work and watch as he wanders off into the darkness.

"You know," Sakurai says as they begin the trek back to camp, the horses trailing behind them. There's laughter in his tone. "Since the start of this whole thing, I keep getting the feeling that he knows exactly what I'm thinking."

"That is Captain's gift, after all."

Sakurai looks at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Surely you don't mean...?"

"Hunches," Nino replies, grinning. "He has very good hunches."

They continue on, falling into comfortable silence. When the campsite comes into view through the trees ahead, Sakurai slows to a halt, and Nino stops with him. Sakurai opens his mouth, closes it, and tries again, slowly managing to force the words out. His hands are fidgeting around the horses' reigns.

"I doubted at first," he starts. "This whole big, stupid plan of mine... Up until the moment I was standing in front of Masaki's shop, I was never entirely sure if I should go through with it. But I'm glad I did. And of all the people... of everyone who could have taken the job..." He looks up, finally, and his eyes lock onto Nino's. "I'm glad it was you."

In that moment, all Nino can do is think about how, for all his talk about changing the world, Sakurai is still just a naive, sheltered noble, and it shows. He doesn't know much about the world or the people in it beyond what he's studied in his pretentious books from the comfort of his luxurious home, doesn't know just how badly things could have played out for him if he'd been dealt a different hand. Nino imagines all the horrific things that could have gone wrong, everything that could have happened to Sakurai, if someone else, someone more cruel, had taken the job—if they'd turned it down instead of listening to Captain...

All he can do is look back at Sakurai and say, "I'm glad, too."

* * *

  
The next morning, Nino wakes up to hushed conversation. Matsujun and Aiba are crouched near Nino's bedroll, whispering to each other in rushed, worried tones. As soon as Aiba notices that Nino's awake, he rushes over to kneel at his side, asking as he does, "Nino, do you know where Captain is?"

Nino sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "Why, is he missing?"

Aiba answers "Yes" at the same time that Matsujun says "No."

On Nino's other side, Sakurai stirs awake. "What's going on?" he asks, voice thick with sleep.

"Captain is missing!" Aiba cries.

Sakurai sits up in a flash, suddenly wide awake. "What?"

"He's not _missing_ ," Matsujun sighs. "He's just not _here_."

"Last night he told us he was going fishing," Sakurai says. "Could he still be out there?"

Aiba shakes his head vigorously. "It's not like him to stay out so long."

Matsujun rolls his eyes. "He's done it before. Sometimes he just loses track of time."

"But not when we're on a job," Aiba insists, growing increasingly frantic. "Captain's super-reliable when it matters!"

Nino waves off Aiba's worries as he uncurls himself from his bedroll. "Look, I'll go check the river. Just keep an eye out, okay? I'm sure he's fine."

He laces up his boots, equips his daggers, and climbs up onto one of the horses. As he makes his way to the river, he's certain that Captain really did just lose track of time, or that he fell asleep, and when he sees Nino, he'll smile blearily and say, "Good morning, Nino-chan."

But when he gets to the riverbank, Captain's not there. That's when Nino feels that first rush of dread coiling tightly in his chest.

He rides up the riverbank, far past the point Captain would travel, and then just as far in the other direction.

He finds nothing.

He does it again.

On his third run, the dread has washed over his entire body. His heart is pounding, and his mind is frenzied with all the thoughts of what could be happening to Captain at this exact moment. _It'll be fine,_ he tells himself, trying to believe it. _I'll go back to camp and they'll tell me he just fell asleep in the forest. It'll be fine._

He turns back.

And then he sees it.

* * *

  
Stormfront Harbor is only a few hours away on horseback; the note attached to Captain's quarterstaff had said to meet there for a friendly exchange. As they ride, Sakurai primes them for what to expect. If it's a ship his father has sent after him, he says, then they shouldn't expect to go down without a fight.

They know it's a trap, that there will be no friendly exchange—they're not stupid—but it's the only way to get Captain back. And leaving Captain behind is not an option.

They dismount at the entrance to the harbor and walk the rest of the way in, Sakurai shielded behind Nino, Matsujun, and Aiba. There are guards everywhere, on the ship, scattered around the harbor, closing in behind them, each one armed with a heavy crossbow. Nino tightens his grip on his daggers but doesn't dare move for fear that someone might mistake it for an attack.

And then, at the head of the ship, they see Captain.

He meets their eyes and waves with his shackled hands, looking fine but for a scrape on his cheek. Nino is light-headed with relief, and he knows that Matsujun and Aiba must be feeling the same way.

Sakurai motions at the tall, stone-faced man standing beside Captain. "I know him," he whispers. "He's my father's chief of security."

"Will he listen to you?" Nino asks.

Sakurai doesn't say anything, but his face shows uncertainty.

When the man starts down the walkway that leads to the dock, Sakurai pushes through Nino and Matsujun to meet him halfway. He offers a greeting, but the man ignores him, instead looking to the guards and ordering, "Take them in."

Sakurai stops cold.

"What about the deal?" he calls. "You said you would return their leader in exchange for me." He spreads his arms out, hands open to show that he's unarmed, unbound. "Here I am."

The man continues down the walkway until he reaches Sakurai, shaking his head slowly as he goes. "Sakurai-sama, you should know that we cannot possibly honor such a deal. These men have been charged with kidnapping the magistrate's son, and as such, they must be executed for their crime."

"But they've done nothing wrong! _I'm_ the one who hired them—they've been escorts, not kidnappers—"

The man cuts in, "The magistrate is aware of that." At those words, Sakurai is shocked into silence, and the man laughs, reaching out to lay a hand on Sakurai's shoulder. "Really, young master," he says, voice mirthful. "You should give the magistrate more credit. He _did_ raise you."

The man keeps walking, but Sakurai reaches out to grasp his arm, pulling him back. The man looks down at Sakurai's hand gripping his sleeve, his expression disdainful, but Sakurai continues regardless. "If he knows they've done nothing to harm me, why is he still charging them?"

The man fixes Sakurai with a look of derision. "They're criminals," he says flatly.

"He has no proof of that! He can't just execute whomever he pleases!"

At that, the man sneers. "They're _branded_."

Sakurai's expression grows dark, hopefulness replaced immediately with fury. "Is that enough for a death sentence, then?" he seethes. "Would Father have _me_ executed?"

"Keep your voice down," the man hisses, and then, more evenly: "I understand your distress. But the entire country has been made aware of your supposed kidnapping. How could the magistrate explain your safe return without something to show for it?" He pulls his arm from Sakurai's grasp in one quick, brisk movement. "You know how important it is to him to keep up appearances."

Nino can practically see the fire behind Sakurai's eyes—but he would never expect the words that come out of Sakurai's mouth.

"So be it."

Beside Nino, Aiba lowers his pistol, caught off guard by Sakurai's words. "Sho-chan?"

When Sakurai simply looks at them, Matsujun steps forward, his fists clenched. "What do you mean, 'so be it'? You're turning us in just like that?"

"This is the only way," Sakurai tells them.

He sounds like he means it, but Nino can't remember the last time he was this furious.

At the man's nod, the guards swoop down upon them, and as outnumbered as they are, they have no choice but to surrender. Their weapons are taken from them, and their wrists are shackled. As they're led up the walkway, they pass Sakurai, who looks at them each in turn and says, "I'm sorry." Matsujun spits at his feet.

At the top of the walkway, Captain greets them as if it's any normal day.

"Did they hurt you, Captain?" Aiba asks. He looks calm but his voice is watery.

"I'm fine," Captain says, smiling. "Cool ship though, right? It's a little bigger than I want mine to be, but I like it." His placidity is simultaneously calming and maddening.

They're taken below deck and locked in a cramped room with a guard on watch outside the door. Without their equipment, without their weapons or Aiba's potions, there's nothing they can do. Nino doesn't even bother transmuting the cuffs or the lock on the door. There's nowhere to go.

They take off for the Capitol City. The journey takes a week, and Nino is seasick the entire time.

* * *

  
When the ship makes its return, the four of them are herded onto a wagon and promptly carted off to the city jail. They don't see Sakurai. They're thrown in temporary holding cells where they are to be guarded until their execution, scheduled for the following morning. Nino is less than thrilled to hear this news.

His is the cell closest to the entrance; next to him is Matsujun, then Aiba, then Captain. It's a small, barren cell with walls built from heavy rocks. Nino could transmute parts of them, but not enough to make a difference. He could easily transmute the iron lock on the cell door, but the guard is a beefy man and barely a meter away. Nino's tiny and unarmed; there's no way he'd be able to fend this guy off once he opened the lock.

Matsujun, on the other hand...

Nino inches towards the wall separating his cell from its neighbor. He waits until the guard looks away, distracted by a noise from down the hall, and whispers through the bars, "Matsujun. _Matsujun._ "

He hears movement, and then the impatient reply: "What is it?"

"I need you to call the guard over and knock him out."

Matsujun gives a _tsk_ —Nino can envision the eye-roll perfectly—and mutters, "Finally," and in the next instant he's screaming for the guard, his voice sounding ragged and pained. He's always been a good actor, and if Nino didn't know any better, he'd think there was something genuinely wrong.

But he does know better.

Matsujun's yowling is impossible to ignore—he gets the guard's attention immediately—but he just keeps going. "It hurts!" he screams, even louder now. He even bangs against the bars a few times for good measure. "It hurts! _Please!_ "

When the guard only inches closer, hesitant, Matsujun keeps going until his shouts are more like guttural noises and less like actual human words. Nino watches idly as the guard finally closes in on Matsujun's cell.

As soon as he's within reach, a hand darts out through the bars and latches onto his wrist. The noise is gone now, replaced by the guard's own scream, but the hand pulls him closer, slamming him into the door, and another reaches out to cover his mouth, holding him back against the bars and silencing his cries. It takes long enough that Nino begins to wonder if it's going to work—Matsujun usually only uses his power to subdue people, not knock them out, and this guard is sizable—but after nearly a full minute of struggling and trying to tough through the pain, the guard sags against the bars, then onto the floor when Matsujun's hands retreat back into the cell.

Nino wastes no time, pressing his palm flat against the lock panel and concentrating. The door opens easily once the lock is transmuted, and from there it's just a matter of dragging the guard out of the way and opening the other cells. The guard looks out of it, with dark bruises blooming on his wrist and face, but Nino gives him a kick in the side just to be sure.

He moves towards the door of Matsujun's cell and works on opening the lock. "Nice work."

Matsujun looks exhausted but happy to be free. "Thanks."

When they get Aiba's door open, the first thing he does is envelop Nino in a fierce bear hug. "I'm so happy to see you guys," he sniffles, moving on to hug Matsujun.

"Geez, Aiba-chan," Matsujun scoffs, "we've been here this whole time." He makes a show of looking irritated, but he gives Aiba a squeeze in return when he thinks Nino isn't looking.

When they get to Captain's cell, they find him napping in the corner. It's the screech of the door that wakes him.

He looks up at them through half-lidded, sleepy eyes, and yawns out, "Are we leaving already?"

* * *

  
Aiba skips ahead to catch up with Nino as he storms down the hallway. "Where are we going?" he asks.

"We're finding our equipment, and then we're leaving."

"We'll probably have to flee the country," Matsujun says, coming up from behind them. "We're still wanted criminals, you realize."

Nino scowls. "We knew this might happen when we took the job. I for one didn't come this far just to be executed."

That's when they hear it—a pained shout from around the corner—and the walls are thrown into flickering orange illumination.

Aiba is the only one who dares to look hopeful. Captain just looks oddly smug.

The scream cuts off, and the light dies out. Footsteps sound from down the hall, growing louder. Nino and Matsujun square their shoulders and plant their feet, prepared to attack if the footsteps belong to a guard.

But it's not a guard who rounds the corner. It's Sakurai. There's smoke rising off his hands and mischief in his eyes.

"Follow me."

* * *  
* * *

  
The night of Sakurai Sho's death, a fire breaks out.

News of the fire moves quickly throughout the country. It happens suddenly and burns down nearly half the Sakurai home before the flames are extinguished. That all but one make it out unharmed is nothing short of miraculous; that the one person caught in the fire is the magistrate's eldest son, who had been safely returned home from a kidnapping and attempted assassination that very night, is a cruel twist of fate.

At least, this is what the people are told.

No one knows what caused the fire, but it is perhaps not coincidence that the same criminals responsible for Sakurai's kidnapping fled the city jail that night. It can only be assumed that they finished the task they'd been hired to accomplish.

That part, at least, is true.

The magistrate is a smart man. He must realize that the body they found was that of an unfortunate prison guard and not his son. But it's a rule which he himself taught: it is _appearance_ which defines what people believe, and as long as the people of Susanowo believe that Sakurai Sho is dead, the magistrate won't have to worry any longer about keeping his dreaded secret.

In the end, they're both satisfied; the magistrate can now focus on his own matters, and his son, free now without a family name to uphold, can focus on living his life the way he wants to.

Years later, a group of adventurers will laugh about the incident over a game of cards.

"Hey Sho-chan," Aiba will say, "remember that time you faked your own death?"

"What a job," Matsujun will sigh. He'll roll his eyes and say, "If I knew it was going to be such a pain in the ass, I never would have gone along," but the others will recognize it as a lie.

"I don't know," Nino will chime in with a smile, casting a glance around the table. "I think it turned out pretty well."

Sho—he stopped going by "Sakurai" the night they fled the Capitol City once and for all—will return the smile easily. "When you took the job," he'll say, "did you guys have any idea it would end this way?"

And Captain will simply smile.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sparks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/428682) by [kinoface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/pseuds/kinoface)




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